The Golden Lion
by Golden.Rose
Summary: Lionkit, the son of Brackenfur and Sorreltail, is mentioned in a prophecy. Can he live up to StarClan's name and save the forest?...ON HIATUS!
1. Brackenfur

**Hello! This is Roseh here, with my very first fanfiction! I decided to do a Warriors fanfiction, because, well, why not? They freakin' rock! -cough- Ahem, anyways, this is about Brackenfur's son, Lionkit, and his...erm...well, life. It's not as boring as it sounds, I promise! Oh, and, erm, please read and review! They make me happy, and have a warm, cozy feeling inside. Anyways, this is a pretty long a/n, so I'll, er, get on with the story... -wait for it...- Now!**

**Chapter 1:**

**Brackenfur**

Leaf-bare was a harsh—actually, the harshest—season of all the four seasons of the year, and was well in motion, freezing the ThunderClan camp and spouting sickness.

Snow, glittering pristine-white in color, covered every inch of land in the camp and throughout their territory, and frost froze trees into glittering sculptures of nature.

A golden shape made its way through the thick snow, amber eyes narrowed and determined, his tail tip flicking back and forth. It was a noble creature—a feline, graceful and beautiful in all its majesty and beauty. This, in particular, was a tomcat, a male of its species. His narrowed, wide amber eyes were round and fixed on the ice-bright sky, chilling him to the bone.

The cat halted, its fur bristling slightly, fluffed up and acted as a substance of warmth to block the solid winds that froze his limbs. He narrowed his eyes and flattened himself against the mounds of snow, his entire golden form, with rich brown stripes nicely rippling throughout his short golden pelt, and his amber optics glimmering in the dusky sunhigh.

His eyes were fixed on a frail, thin, weak form before him—a long-eared rodent with patchy brown and white fur, it's winter coat yet to fully grow in.

His golden-brown paws were stealthily deadly as they blurred before his very eyes, short, but sharp, claws extended to their full length, letting them dig into the fur and flesh of the rabbit, leaping into the air.

The rodent squealed for mercy before his fangs sank into its throat, and finished its life. Sighing, the feline took the small, weak body into his jaws and padded silently onward.

_This leaf-bare is the harshest we've experienced in this new territory, _the tom thought, his tail-tip flicking. His insides, everyday, quaked with worry, though for the cat he loved, a gentle, but fierce in battle, tortoiseshell and white she-cat, her amber eyes bright and with more fire then any cat in the forest...

Sorreltail.

The she-cat _still_ had her beautifully slender figure, even though she was pregnant with Brackenfur's—the tomcat's name—kits, their first litter.

He worried everyday that she'd catch a sickness and lose the kits, or even worse, her life. Brackenfur loved Sorreltail to the end, and vowed, as he trudged on, that those kits would grow up healthy and alive.

As the tabby, sun-colored pelt and earth-colored stripes, staggered into camp, amber eyes clouded with worry, he noticed right away a dark shape against the snow, in the warm, cramped nursery, exhausted.

"Sorreltail!" Cried Brackenfur, racing over to the pregnant she-cat. Her amber eyes glimmered.

"Hey, Brackenfur...ooh, isthat rabbit for me?"

Brackenfur nodded and let the bunny drop, watching his mate devour the meat hungrily. Her belly grew more swollen every day, and Brackenfur just hoped the kitting went alright...

"So, how are you? Did you have a hard day?"

Sorreltail shrugged wearily. "You have no idea. These kits squirm and kick like you'd never believe!" Then, she added, "Then again, they are _you're _kits!"

"Mine?" Snorted Brackenfur. "Willowpelt had more trouble kitting then Frostfur!"

The tortoiseshell's pretty dappled fur shone in the sunlight—almost cold—and her eyes twinkled with merriment. "Maybe so," she agreed, staring down at the belly so slender, even after moons of pregnancy. "Cinderpelt says they'll be born soon."

"Really?" Brackenfur's eyes widened proudly. "That's great, Sorreltail!"

She nodded, glancing around at all of the queens in the nursery.

There was Ferncloud, who was nursing her only kit, a she-cat who was almost too big for the nursery, Earthkit. Her dark fur and fiery eyes made her look almost exactly like Dustpelt, and she had his sharp tongue and mocking ways as well.

Squirrelflight was also pregnant, with Brambleclaw's kits, was somewhat close to Sorreltail's kitting-time, although not much.

Then, there was Leafpool, one of the medicine cats of ThunderClan. She was very ashamed nowadays, and hardly spoke to anyone. She had a single nursing kit, almost as old as Earthkit, a tom named Charredkit. They were great friends, and Charredkit's black fur and amber eyes made him look nothing like Leafpool, who was pregnant again, with another small litter who wouldn't be born for sometime.

Brackenfur heard a she-cat call him from outside—he turned and noticed Whitenose. Whitenose was the warrior name given to his own former apprentice, Whitepaw. She had trained hard, and was ready to prove she really deserved her name.

"Brackenfur, we should go hunting. Like old times," Whitenose explained briefly, her green eyes lighting up.

He nodded to the small white she-cat, her fur blending perfectly with the snow, like her father's did.

"Coming," Brackenfur meowed, turning back to nuzzle his mate affectionately. "I'll bring you back some more fresh-kill when I return," he told Sorreltail.

She nodded while Brackenfur pushed himself to his paws and padded away after Whitenose, feeling like a newly-made warrior again, or younger, an apprentice with his mentor, Graystripe.

**Okay, kinda' long for a first chapter... three pages on OpenOffice... I don't always do long chapters, but this one was just a medium-length one. Okay, well, read and review and I'll give you more! And please don't say you don't like Whitepaw's name—I didn't think of it. I got it from Wikipedia, although it may not be official, it says 'Whitenose' there... so... no comments on that, please. Whoa... 'nother long author's note, those aren't so cool. See ya!**


	2. Border Patrol

**Thank you so much for the reviews! Mooncloud: I know, Whitenose isn't the best name, but at least it's cute. Dewfrost: Thank you so much! I hear you and Mooncloud are both really good authors, so it's good to hear that. Halfpelt: Thanks so much! Okay, so my author's note is getting longer every second I type this, so I might as well get on with the story. -sniff- Okay, here I go... and... NOW!**

**Chapter 2:**

**Border Patrol**

Light streamed through the roof of the warriors' den, landing in a pool of golden light on Brackenfur's golden tabby form. He twitched, opened one of his fiery eyes, and gave a mighty yawn as his gaze met with a tabby with dust-colored fur and fire-colored eyes, both coat and optics alight with the burning illumination of the rising sun.

The dark brown tabby, named Dustpelt, also the deputy of ThunderClan, blinked his amber eyes and meowed, "Great StarClan, Brackenfur, are you going to sleep until moonhigh?"

The golden-brown tom scrambled to his paws, a little embarrassed. "Sorry, Dustpelt... I was exhausted from last night..."

The deputy let his paw fall playfully on Brackenfur's shoulder, and Dustpelt purred. "Don't worry about it, Brackenfur. After all, you and Whitenose brought back more prey than I've ever seen in leaf-bare!"

"It's this new territory," came a new voice, belonging to a pale gray cat with blue eyes, Ashfur, a respected young warrior, and former apprentice of Dustpelt. "We've never seen this much prey, ever! StarClan have truly blessed us, even in leaf-bare."

Brackenfur nodded, then rose to his paws wearily. Snow, swirling with the gales brought into camp, hit him in the face as he started from the warriors' den. He winced as the freezing water melted over his furry face, and he shook the frost from his brown-gold pelt.

The cats of his Clan were huddled together while sharing tongues, and Brackenfur spotted Ashfur and Whitenose shyly talking, making his tail-tip twitch with amusement. Sootfur and Rainwhisker were conversing near the apprentices' den, and Birchpaw was with his mentor, Brambleclaw, although he told his apprentice something and went to lie down by Spiderleg and Sandstorm.

Brackenfur decided to go and visit his littermate, the pretty gray she-cat with the lovely blue eyes. Cinderpelt had been through so much, and with the pregnancy of her successor, Leafpool, she'd been shocked morally, and was almost as wounded as she had been on the Thunderpath at their old territory. Leafpool and Cinderpelt had been very close—it wasn't hard to believe the bond they had felt, as mentor and apprentice.

"Hey, Cinderpelt," Brackenfur meowed, giving his sister an affectionate rasp of tongue on her ear, "How are you doing?"

Cinderpelt's weary eyes turned on Brackenfur—she briefly shrugged. "My job's a lot harder since..." Suddenly, her sapphire eyes clouded, and she turned away from her brother, making him flinch with hurt.

"I'm sorry, Cinderpelt, I didn't..."

"It's okay, Brackenfur, really... it's nobody's fault but her's. I do wonder who the cat she is with it, though..." her sweet voice trailed off, and she sighed and went back to her herbs, sorting them into piles. Brackenfur had no knowledge of herbs like his littermate—he was more of a warrior, a senior warrior to help out the Clan in their time of need.

The tabby turned from his sister and padded over to the fresh-kill pile, knowing it was incredibly measly. He sighed and took a small finch, chewing it absentmindedly. His mind was on Sorreltail, now—she was chatting with Ferncloud and Squirrelflight, and, as usual, Leafpool was alone, her amber gaze fixed on her white paws, blending into the thick snow. Her tail was curled around her, and she was shivering as though the breezes and snow were blowing into _her _face.

As soon as he'd eaten his fresh-kill, Brackenfur stood and padded over to Sandstorm, Spiderleg and Brambleclaw, all of them chattering up a storm. He gazed at their happy faces, and settled down beside Brambleclaw.

"Hey, Brackenfur. We've been waiting for you," Sandstorm meowed, yawning and blinking her green eyes. "Soon we'll be leaving."

Brambleclaw nodded, showing his pink tongue and fangs as he yawned. "Well, Brackenfur," he mewed, "are you as anxious as I am?"

Brackenfur snapped into reality, his head dizzy. "Wha—what?"

The dark brown tom stared at him coolly. "I asked you if you were as anxious as me... you know... Squirrelflight, Sorreltail?"

"Oh," the gingerish-gold tabby meowed, nodding. "I'm stunned that a beautiful she-cat like Sorreltail and a... a... fleabitten tomcat like me are together."

"Aren't we all," Spiderleg joked, his amber eyes glowing with humor. Sandstorm let out a _mrrow _of laughter, and shook the snow from her fur, standing. "Well, we should be leaving."

Brackenfur and Spiderleg followed her, with Brambleclaw trailing behind.

Sandstorm parted her jaws to scent the air, her tail-tip twitching as she continued, the cats' paws crunching snow beneath them. Spiderleg blinked and let his fiery gaze land on a clump of frosty brush.

He threw himself—rather noisily, if Brackenfur said so himself—into a hunting crouch, and his eyes narrowed. The young warrior crept forward, his tail-tip twitching, and his brown belly fur barely touching the ground beneath him. Sandstorm and Brambleclaw watched the young warrior's progress.

Spiderleg was swift, despite his slight clumsiness. He jolted out, nothing more than a streak of jet black fur, and pinned a vole, round and plump despite the harshness of leaf-bare. The tiny, fat rodent squealed and squirmed, but not for long.

The black warrior let his jaws close around its throat in a death-grab, and let it lie there in the snow, bloodstained mouth twisted into a sly grin.

"I caught a pretty big vole," he announced, standing erect, his tail curled around his black paws. "Am I great, or what?" He joked.

"The only great cat here is me," Sandstorm meowed firmly, but joyfully, as she padded over to scrape snow over the vole, leaving a red and white clump where Spiderleg left it. "Now, let's get moving."

As they headed over towards WindClan's border, Brackenfur heard a loud growl, and he blinked, straining to see what was there.

A very small brown and white cat—Owlpaw, he assumed—was alongside Weaseltail, one of his Clanmates. The older brown tabby warrior was showing him a technique, quite unique. Weaseltail had taken over Owlpaw's training, since his old mentor, Tornear, had died of blackcough.

Blackcough... he shivered, his fur rising slightly at the thought of the deadly disease. Nearly all of WindClan was ridden with greencough, as well as there deputy, Ashfoot. Onestar was said to have lost one of his lives during it—Ashfoot, though, had blackcough, and worried her entire Clan.

Brackenfur noticed Brambleclaw stare at Weaseltail with understanding—being a new mentor was hard. Brackenfur knew that, both from Graystripe and himself. His first apprentice, Tawnypaw, had run away, and he had no one but himself to blame. Now Tawnypelt, his former apprentice dwelled in ShadowClan, and was a hero known to all four Clans, as well as Brambleclaw, Crowfeather, Squirrelflight, Feathertail, and Stormfur.

Sandstorm padded over to Weaseltail, nearer the border, and dipped her head, her pale green eyes narrowed into slits.

"Greetings, Weaseltail, Owlpaw," she meowed, and Spiderleg nodded to them. The pale brown warrior nodded.

"Hello, Sandstorm, Brackenfur, Brambleclaw, Spiderpaw."

"Spider_leg_," the black warrior corrected, smirking.

Weaseltail's eyes widened, but Sandstorm went on, firmly, "So, Weaseltail, Owlpaw, I hope you're planning to keep to your side of the border?"

Brackenfur nodded. "We can't afford trouble, and really, neither can you."

The brown tom nodded, but his ears were flat against his head. "I'll make sure I don't take a step over the border," he mumbled, turning away. Owlpaw stared at Sandstorm's patrol, and let out a cute, kitten-like hiss.

"I'm gonna' guard my borders with my life, and when I'm a warrior, I'll-"

"Coming, Owlpaw?"

Weaseltail was already walking back towards his borders, and, embarrassed, the tiny brown and white warrior followed.

Sandstorm nodded, and her patrol went on, through the snow. RiverClan's border with ThunderClan was calm, peaceful, as was ShadowClan's.

As they returned to camp, each of them with a mouthful of prey, Brackenfur, extremely worried, as the entire camp was gathered around the nursery, Brackenfur hurried over, his eyes wide with fear.

Sorreltail, Ferncloud and Squirrelflight looked devastated, as Cinderpelt huddled over a light brown tabby shape, which was racking uncontrollably.

Firestar and Squirrelflight were staring with misty, sorrow eyes, and the ginger she-cat leaned on her father's should, sorrow clouding her green gaze. Sandstorm halted in her tracks, her fur rising, and Cinderpelt's eyes were huge with discomfort.

"Leafpool..." breathed Spiderleg beside Brackenfur, and Brambleclaw hurried over to comfort Squirrelflight.

The light brown colored tabby she-cat was a tiny heap of untidy fur, and she was shivering, hacking, and wheezing all at once.

"Greencough," whispered Cinderpelt, turning to Brackenfur. "I just hope the other queens haven't caught it as well."

At this, Brackenfur's limbs were covered in a sheet of thin, freezing ice.

He just hoped Sorreltail hadn't caught whitecough, greencough, or even worse, blackcough. If she had, Brackenfur just knew their kits would die... or worse... Sorreltail would.

**Ah... finished with chapter two. Almost five pages! Not bad for a lazy writer like me, xD. Anyways, please read and review! I hope you like this chapter! -OMG, the author's note isn't that long! The world is... ending...-**


	3. Lost Hope

**I can't believe I have nine reviews and two chapters! Thank you! Anyways, please read and review! I realize you don't want Leafpool to die... well, I'm still debating. Should she live and her kit die or should she die and her kit live? Poll... please don't forget to answer it. 'Cause if you don't answer, I'll answer myself... -cackles wickedly- Oh, and thanks to Mooncloud, Dewfrost, Halfpelt, Grizzlepelt and Tigerstripe, for giving me those wonderfulistic reviews!**

**Chapter 3:**

**Lost Hope**

Moonlight streamed from the round, silver orb in the indigo sky. Shadows stretched from their hiding places of daytime, and began to roam the forest, lusting to consume the bodies of the cats as they padded along the path, their bright eyes fixed ahead of them.

Brackenfur, Whitenose, Birchpaw, Dustpelt and Cloudtail had come to exterminate a fox living in their territory. They had volunteered to go, and Firestar was quite worried with them going, but, of course, he allowed it, for it was for the good of the Clan.

As Brackenfur trudged through the deep snow, he raised his head, blinked, and parted his jaws to sniff. He smelled the stink right away—fox!

Whitenose and Dustpelt smelled it, too, for they also gave each other dark glances. Cloudtail nudged Birchpaw, nodding towards the place where a fox had marked its' territory.

"Ew!" Birchpaw growled. "The rat! I'll claw his fur off!"

Brackenfur nodded. "Don't worry, Birchpaw, you'll get your chance. In fact," he went on, his amber eyes sparkling, "You might be chosen to become a warrior if we succeed."

Birchpaw gasped. "Really?"

Dustpelt flicked his ear with the tip of his tail. "Don't count on it," he meowed to his son warmly, although all cats knew how the deputy loved his sons, Spiderleg as well as Birchpaw.

Cloudtail suddenly halted, his dark blue eyes widening with surprise as he meowed, "Watch out! Dustpelt!"

Brackenfur whipped his head to where Cloudtail and Whitenose were darting away. A huge, lean red body streaked forth from the brush, crusted with frost, its pale eyes wild and fangs glimmering in the moonlight.

"Dustpelt!" Howled Birchpaw worriedly as the dark tabby snarled, and crashed head first into the red canine. Brown and red blurs were all they were, struggling around on the ground.

Brackenfur was quicker than his Clanmates, perhaps because he wasn't worried for a family member, currently, but he slammed into the dogfox with anger filling his bites and snarls.

The dogfox's eyes blazed hate and anger as he left a battered brown tabby form and attacked Brackenfur.

Finally having snapped out of their "trance", Birchpaw, Whitenose and Cloudtail began to help Brackenfur.

Whitenose leapt into the air, her fangs glimmering like white stars, her full weight hitting the creature with force. Cloudtail came from under him, clawing the fox's belly into shreds.

Birchpaw's amber eyes were filled with hate, rage, despise and bitter remorse as he cannoned into the canine's throat, ripping it, tearing it into pieces.

The fox let out a howl of agonized pain, as it writhed about, Birchpaw, Whitenose, Cloudtail and Brackenfur clinging to its form.

Soon, it went limp beneath all of the weight the cats put onto it, and their eyes shone with triumph. Sadly, that triumph was short lived.

Birchpaw's eyes caught that dark tabby fur of Dustpelt's, and he let out a squeal of terror, his orbs of rich life suddenly drained of their energy. He darted to his father's side, letting out a howl of horror.

Cloudtail froze in his tracks, gasping, and Whitenose cried, "Oh, no!"

Brackenfur let his paws take him to the dying warrior, his once bright, arrogantly shining eyes glazed with death... or, almost.

The tabby's fur was ripped and torn, clumps hanging off and lining the snow. His bloodshot golden eyes were slowly dimming, and the snow beneath his sad form was turning scarlet.

"Dustpelt..." Brackenfur murmured, nuzzling the tabby quietly. "We honor you, Dustpelt, for defending your Clan and risking your life to save us."

Dustpelt glanced up at Brackenfur weakly, and smirked briefly. "Brackenfur... you talk as if... as if I w-were... dying..."

Birchpaw let out another wail, and Dustpelt shuddered. "Please, my son, don't let my lineage die out... live up to your Clans' honor, and never let your Clanmates down, remain loyal, and pick a perfect she-cat to give kits to ThunderClan... tell Ferncloud, Spiderleg and Earthpaw I... l-love them..." His eyes dimmed. "I love you, too, son, but I'm off to join my family, friends, mentors and kits in StarClan..."

With that, Dustpelt, loyal warrior and deputy of ThunderClan, gave his last breath, and went to hunt with StarClan.

**-Wails- Poor Dusty! Anyways, I'll leave you to read the story and murder me. This takes place a moon after my last chapter, when they go out to hunt down a fox... sorry for the shortness of the chapter. Next one will be longer, I promise. (I realize this chapter was short, but I just hope it isn't too poorly written... sorry it it was rushed, the next one shall be better, I promise! I had a bit of a road-block at that spot...)  
**


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